STORY BREAK - A Deadly Scent

It was supposed to be a fun night out with the girls. Jess, Amy, Claire, and I had been planning this for weeks - finally, a chance to let loose and leave the stresses of work and school behind, even if just for a night. We picked a club we'd heard about but never been to, wanting the thrill of someplace new. I spent an extra-long time getting ready, carefully styling my long brown hair, and choosing a new dress I'd been dying to wear, a short sequined number in deep green. I spritzed my favorite perfume, a musky floral scent I'd worn since high school. Smelling its familiar notes calmed my nerves.

The Uber pulled up to the curb, and we giggled with excitement as we slid into the backseat. I watched the city lights stream by as we drove, neon signs advertising clubs and bars where other revelers were no doubt starting their weekends. It all blurred into a shining kaleidoscope as I chatted with my friends. I was practically vibrating by the time we pulled up to the club, the thudding bass audible from down the block.

At first, the club was everything we hoped it would be. We danced, not caring how we looked or who saw us. Claire kept us laughing with her outrageous dance moves while Amy fetched us drinks. The DJ was amazing, the mix of songs unexpected yet seamless. The atmosphere buzzed with frenetic energy.

As the night deepened, the tone started to shift. The press of bodies on the dance floor no longer felt friendly and celebratory but cloying, even threatening. I noticed a group of guys hovering nearby, staring aggressively in our direction. Their body language was predatory, and alarm bells went off in my head. I leaned close to Jess and asked if we could go, jerking my head back at the guys. She nodded, looking unsettled, and went to grab Claire and Amy.

We gathered our things quickly, keeping our heads down as we maneuvered through hordes of drunken clubgoers to the exit. The night air hit me as soon as we made it outside, sobering me slightly, though the sidewalk still seemed to sway beneath my feet. I looked around for the best direction to start walking, disoriented. Just as I spotted a busy street a block up that I recognized, headlights flashed on behind us, pinning us in illumination. I turned to see a dark sedan idling several yards back. Its lights flicked off, then on again. A feeling of being hunted rose inside me.

"Guys, run!" I yelled. Too tipsy for questions, they listened to the urgency in my voice and took off sprinting down the street. I kicked off my heels to better keep up, the pavement cold and rough beneath my stockinged feet. The streets were nearly empty at this hour, only a few lone figures shuffling in the distance. The isolation terrified me even more. We had to get somewhere safe.

Up ahead, I spotted a neglected warehouse, its windows boarded up and facade crumbling in places. I motioned toward it wordlessly. Claire tugged at a side door, rattling its handle, but it was locked tight. We hurried around to the back, finding a window that had been shattered long ago. Jess crawled through first, then reached out to help haul each of us through. I tore my dress climbing over the sill and felt glass snag my leg, but I didn't care. We were inside.

It was pitch black and cavernous. Our panicked breathing echoed off the walls, the only sound breaking the heavy silence. I fumbled for my phone and turned on its flashlight. Piles of mildewed cardboard boxes and broken wooden pallets littered the space. We huddled together, straining our ears for any noises outside. After a few endless minutes, we allowed ourselves to relax slightly. Maybe we had just freaked ourselves out over nothing.

But as we began searching for a hiding spot just in case, Amy froze, her eyes going wide. "Guys, listen," she whispered. Distant footsteps crunched on gravel, moving steadily closer. I swallowed hard. Someone was out there, coming for us.

We scrambled into motion, Amy and Jess worming their way behind some crates while Claire dove under a moldy tarp in the corner. I started to follow her, then stopped short. A trace of my perfume still lingered in the air from earlier. My heart seized in my chest.

I turned to Claire's hidden form and whispered, "My perfume will give you away. I can't stay here." She paused, then rustled around under the tarp until she had created a small opening. "Go then," she said, her eyes glinting in the minimal light. "We'll be okay."

I squeezed her hand once in silent promise, then backed away quickly. The footsteps were closer now, accompanied by slow sweeps of a flashlight beam across windows. I retreated behind some pallets, hunkering down into a small gap in the rotting wood and pulling debris over myself to stay hidden. My whole body shook with fear, breaths coming quick and shallow.

The main warehouse door creaked, and a figure stepped inside. I couldn't see them from my vantage point, but I could track their progress by the flashlight's roving glow. They swept it methodically around the space, starting along the far wall. I froze completely when the light neared Claire's hiding spot, shutting my eyes in silent prayer. Please move on, please keep going.

Seconds passed like hours, but the footsteps continued without pause. I started breathing again. Soon the light moved away, toward the maze of crates where Jess and Amy were concealed. But just before it reached them, a loud snap split the silence. I flinched violently. Across the warehouse, a male voice cursed. The footsteps moved off in that direction.

Another minute later, a high-pitched scream pierced the air, abruptly cut off. Amy. Bile rose in my throat. What was happening? Whoever was here had found them. Jess and Claire stayed hidden, but we all knew it was only a matter of time. The footsteps slowed, as if savoring the hunt. My whole body shook.

I counted the steps, nausea swelling as they drew inevitably closer to Claire. She was cornered, with no way out. I stuffed my fist in my mouth, stifling a sob. The light paused on her tarp. I couldn't bear to look. Then - I heard the flash of a blade, and Claire's garbled cries lasted only a second before ending in a sickening gurgle.

The footsteps turned, moving in my direction. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying with my whole being to wake up from this nightmare. I held myself rigidly still, my body coiled and ready to fight though I knew it was hopeless. The light swept along the pallets. I met Jess' terrified gaze from across the warehouse. And just before it reached me, the police sirens finally split the night.

The killer ran, fleeing out the back. Officers swarmed in, sweeping the scene with guns drawn. I collapsed with exhaustion and relief. But the horror was far from over. Jess and I sobbed as we were escorted outside, the sheet-covered bodies of our friends wheeled by us. We clung together; our lives forever changed.

In the following weeks, what happened that night remained a mystery. The police had no leads on the identity of the killer. Jess was inconsolable, consumed with guilt over having been spared. I was no better, waking each night in a cold sweat from reliving it. I knew the scent of blood and perfume would never leave me.

The day came when Detective Morris showed up at my apartment, posture tense and mouth set in a grim line. I knew as soon as I saw him that something had shifted in the investigation. My heart started pounding.

"May I come in?" he asked formally. I nodded, stepping aside. He brushed past me into the cramped living room and turned to face me. His eyes were hard.

"We've found some new evidence that leads us to believe we have a suspect in the warehouse murders."

My mouth went dry. I tried to keep my expression neutral. "Oh? Did you get a hit on the DNA evidence?" I asked. Inside I was reeling. How had they connected it to me? 

Detective Morris studied my face. "Not DNA, no. But we did find the suspected murder weapon - a hunting knife hidden behind a dumpster down the block. It had been wiped clean except for one key piece of evidence linking it to the killings."

I held perfectly still, not even daring to breathe. Morris held my gaze steadily as he delivered the blow. "Traces of your friend Claire's blood, and fingerprints. Along with scent particles that match a perfume very similar to one found on the victims. A perfume*" he paused, glancing meaningfully around my apartment, "that you've been known to wear."

My knees went weak. I clutched the back of a chair for support. He knew. There was no more hiding. I'd slipped up somehow, left evidence I couldn't explain away. Jess must have told them how I always wore that perfume when we went out together. And the fingerprints - stupid, so stupid of me not to wear gloves. Panic clawed at my throat.

"That's impossible," I choked out. "Why would I hurt my own friends? I loved them, you know that!" Hot tears sprang to my eyes, but Morris's expression didn't change.

"Only you know the real reason, ma'am. But the evidence doesn't lie. We've obtained a warrant to search your premises and car for further proof." His tone was final.

My mind raced, desperately seeking a way out. But I knew there was no more running from this. Still, I tried one last plea. "Detective, you have it all wrong. Please just let me explain-"

He cut me off. "I'm afraid it's too late for that. We know what you did, and you're under arrest for the murders of Claire Matthews and Amy Yang. Anything you say can and will be used against you."

With that, he stepped forward and cuffed my hands behind my back. The metal was cold and unforgiving on my wrists. I closed my eyes, finally allowing the tears to spill down my cheeks. There was no more hiding from the truth of what I'd done that night, or from the justice that would now be served.

As Detective Morris escorted me outside, I lifted my face to feel the sun one last time before being locked away. The ghost of my perfume still lingered in the air around me, mingling now with the imagined scent of blood. I knew that no matter how many times I washed my hands, that metallic aroma would haunt me forever, both in my waking hours and in my dreams. It was my curse to bear alone. I had made my choice that night - my friends had not. And now I would have to live with the consequences. 

"A Deadly Scent" by Oscar Mendieta Bravo

Want to read more? Check out my other short stories: "The Unknown Parallel" on Blogger, inspired by the Twilight Zone series! 

Link: The Unknown Parallel